


Taste It On My Mouth

by zaynsuniverse



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Anal Sex, Infidelity, M/M, au with malik twins dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 16:22:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11604351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaynsuniverse/pseuds/zaynsuniverse
Summary: Harry's lips still tingling on his tastebuds, he almost forgets that his name isn't Rodger.





	Taste It On My Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> i dont think anybody did this before - i dont know why im doing this & btw z & r are tattooless so duh harry isnt dumb

The doorbell chiming through the first level of the complex is enough to startle Zayn from his callow baking experience. He sets down his makeshift sandwich baggie icing piper, wiping his fingers against his apron so he can greet whoever may be standing on his welcome mat.

When the door swings open, he doesn't get a chance because the encounter is way more abrupt than he's expected. Lips are on his, warm and soft fitting perfectly with Zayn's, making him feel like he's melting. His bones are rattling beneath his skin when he taste the bitterness of what seems like a vegetable shake, yet these lips are so sweet and irresistible. Zayn knows he should pull away but can't rack up the intentions to do so. Instead, Zayn continues to pucker up and allow his lip to be nibbled on while his fingertips tug at the fluffy curls.

A timer goes off from the kitchen, oven to be exact, that signals that his second batch is ready to escape the oven. That's what makes them pull apart, if not Zayn thinks they would of been at it indefinitely.

Zayn's opening his eyes, barely processing the fact that he's probably had one of the best kisses ever. Looking forward he sees Harry with a wide grin from ear to ear, "Rodger, I got the promotion!"

Harry's lips still tingling on his tastebuds, he almost forgets his name isn't Rodger. Zayn has to blink a few times to come off whatever rush he's been on. He heaves in a heavy breath and lets it out without daring to look over at Harry ─ his brother's boyfriend.

Zayn thinks he'll never want to look at Harry. Doesn't know if he feels sorry for Rodger or himself. He just knows his brother is one lucky as fuck man. Harry's kiss made him feel different. In the past, he's always been close to Harry but never had any (feeling) type of attraction towards Harry besides the fact that he was the prettiest boy with confidence.

"I came over as soon as I can, baby, because I was just so happy!" Harry coos, shutting the house door behind him and clapping with all these jittery movements also projecting that huge smile that makes him radiate. Zayn's always known he was the best person to be around when you wanted a good feeling in your chest and stomach. Now his whole body feels the opposite, not to mention, horny ─ which he's never felt around Harry, ever.

"These for me, yeah?" Harry asks. Zayn averts his eyes to the first batch of cupcakes where the drippy, melting green icing has melted like lava seeping into the core of the earth (in this case it's a pool of green looking like grass on the crispy top layer of the cupcake).

Zayn did make this for Harry, if results were good, that Harry would be promoted from journalist: idea creator to having his own headline to write for in the magazine company he works for. But now he's gone and kiss the boy instead of showing him his terrible creations. He only responds, upset, "Yeah. They're bad."

"No, baby. I bet they taste great." Harry pecks Zayn's lips and for a quick second, Zayn wonders how Harry can't tell the difference between the two. Harry's grinning instead, putting a cupcake into his palm and taking a bite. His eyes happen to light up which Zayn considers, is an alright sign. "Likewise, they're good."

Harry offers some tips in the end, like how to make the corner of the sandwich bag smaller so that icing won't travel out too fast, and how he could of waited for it to cool down. Apparently, the flavor of the cake is brilliant though (red velvet, then the green shaded cream cheese ─ Harry calls it Christmas surprise).

"I love you." Harry comments, putting down the cake and wrapping his arms around Zayn's neck, tucking his chin above one of Zayn's shoulders. They're about the same height ─ he and Harry ─ something he barely noticed now. He also isn't sure if he should say it back or not. They've done so plenty of times, but it feels different this time around. Probably because in Harry's soothing voice, he means it. And because it isn't directed to Zayn. "Came here to celebrate."

Zayn knew Harry would become a promoted journalist, reason why he had cupcakes and cake to make, some fruit juice pouches. An all around young-hearted tiny party, meant for him, Harry, and Rodger. But now Harry's going on about a different celebration and Zayn doesn't know where this is going.

He gets a hint when Harry raises one leg hitching up around his waist, grinding forward. He can feel Harry already hard against his thigh, making him stutter an incoherent thought that neither of them understand. His breath his hot beneath Zayn's ear when he whispers, "Want you."

It all escalates quickly when Zayn's slapping Harry's ass telling him to undress wherever Harry chooses, while Zayn strips down his apron and washes his hands and face quickly. His face because he still denies that this moment is actually happening. He's on a level of elation and guilt because he can't believe he's fucking going for it. Would this make him a manipulator, he thinks to himself, but at the moment his mind is too clouded with Harry's moans.

Looking over the flat surface, across the breakfast bar counters, he sees Harry laying on the linen navy blue couch with a hand in between his legs, two fingers already swallowed within his rim. Zayn stomps over, with heavy steps to Harry, getting in between his legs and tugging Harry's hand away from his heat, "I said undress not prep yourself."

Harry whines with a nod, biting his lip while raising his hands above his head. Zayn doe not want to think about it, no he fucking doesn't, but he considers that Harry and Rodger have some kinky shit going on due to Harry's brisk submissiveness at Zayn's words. Originally he was only joking with Harry but he saw the neediness and obedience in Harry's facial expression, making him think otherwise.

Zayn tears off his shirt and throws it behind him. He lays on the long shape of the couch where Harry is sprawled out and spreads Harry's legs apart further. He's glad that they've got an L shaped couch in their tiny living room, but also finding this disgusting that Harry decided it would be best to fuck in the living room ─ one in which the twins share. Everything is all fucked up, especially Zayn's mind, but again, he doesn't care right now. Not with Harry looking desperate, with a hard on and a puckering hole.

Running a hand up and down Harry's milky flesh of his inner thoughts, Zayn dismisses the discomfort of his elbows propping his body weight. If this is all he's got, he's got a motive to make tonight special and rememberable for the both of them. Wanting to touch every aspect of pleasure possible, with every way there is out there.

He dips his head low to where his tongue teases the crown of Harry's cock, only kitten licking it to the point where Harry's squirming, his hands still above his head. Zayn likes to see Harry like this, but still feels a little tingle in his heart, not in the good way. He ends up telling Harry, "You can put you hands down, you know?"

Harry's face contorts to something that describes confusion, but his hands still slowly drop down to his sides anyways. Zayn flashes him a smile before letting his tongue roam from his tip down to his perineum, settling at his rim. He sees a glint of Harry's lips parting, soon making the sound of a gasp when Zayn's got his tongue inside him and thumb rubbing around it as well.

Mantras of the single word, "yes," repeat from Harry's lips when Zayn's making it a consistent pattern of thrusting several several fingers into him and using his tongue to flick on the outer skin of his hole. Harry's legs start to close around him, making Zayn want to pull away because if he knows anything (not really that much because he's only given a rim job once and that was for experimenting) it's that Harry's probably close.

Before Harry could lock Zayn in place, Zayn's sitting up now, on his knees still in between Harry with two hands still soothing Harry's thighs. "How do you want this?" He asks, fumbling with his belt buckle with his nimble fingers. He leaves for a second to the bathroom where he's sure there are certain things below the sink cabinet (he doesn't like to have lube or conforms in his bedroom because he personally thinks that stuff belongs somewhere more sanitary).

Inside the open concept family room where there's just a coffee table, their tiny television and the couch with yellow abstract pillows, he sees Harry right where he left him seconds ago. But this time Harry's on his stomach with his ass up. As much as Zayn told Harry that he could choose the position, he was really hoping that he could fuck Harry while looking at him fall apart.

Zayn really can't get everything, he wants so he settles with Harry all fours and strips down completely, latex-covered cock in hand with an excessive amount of lube. He's applying some of the dripping residue onto Harry's rim before slotting the crown of his cock between Harry's cleft.

"Come on, babe." Harry whines, grinding back so that his ass hits against Zayn's thighs. His rocking motion comes to a halt when Zayn's putting two hands on his hips, cock resting on Harry's lower back.

"Give me a second." Zayn pumps himself a few times before getting his thumb around the top side of his cock and sliding into Harry gently. Harry is warm around him, and despite him penetrating into him easily, Harry is also so tight still. He pulls out halfway, just to thrust into Harry hard because most of his sensation is around his tip, personally.

The way Harry's body snaps forward, needy whimpers escaping Harry's lips from Zayn's hasty half thrusts is enough for him to start a consistent movement, accelerating his speed. His thumbs might paint bruises on Harry's hips and his face might have small scratches from the rough decorative pillow but he'll know that Harry will keep it as a memory of the best fuck he's ever received.

Zayn likes his pace, approves of the way he bottoms out snug in Harry's heat, loving the way Harry criss out high pitched moans. He doesn't understand when Harry's begging, "Please. Harder, please."

"Harder?" Zayn's replies genuinely confused. He thought he was racking up his hips in a relevant way. From the way his pelvis slaps against Harry's ass making the obscene sound of fast fucking, to Harry barley being able to hold himself up.

"Yes, you've fucked me better before." Harry's voice no longer has that neediness, more like a teasing, smug tone like he wants to push Zayn to see how better he can become. And truthfully, Zayn's offended.

Harry's tactic works because Zayn's pulling out and positioning Harry to the arm of the couch where he bends Harry's upper body so that he's got the most perfect access of Harry's hole beholding him. He hopes to make Harry shout soon enough, shoving his tip against Harry's prostate. For now he's barely trying to get his rhythm going again, bottoming out teasingly just to get hard again because seriously, not only did Harry offend him but he did imply that Rodger is better than Zayn ─ it's untrue he knows.

"Make you come so hard, Harry." Zayn says when his chest is pressed against Harry's back, teeth sinking down into Harry's neck. Harry whines, grinding forward against the couch and Zayn doesn't mind it. It's hot and nobody really sits on that side of it anyways besides Zayn.

"Yes, please." Harry reaches from behind him and Zayn thinks he's about to stretch his ass apart but instead, he's intertwining his fingers with Zayn. It's something he's never done and he's feeling slightly glum that there's an intimacy that Harry and Rodger shares, something Harry and Zayn probably never would.

Zayn's more upset now than slightly emotional. He projects all his pent up feelings in his aggressive thrusts, no longer holding back his consistent pattern. He fucks like it's the last time he'll get to (really, he's sure it is anyways), vigorous thrusts pounding into Harry enough to make his curls bounce and Harry's legs shake.

Harry's crying out, "Fuck, yes." Zayn takes it as he's finally gotten to hit Harry's swelling spot. He tugs at Harry's hair roughly, fingers scratching at his scalp lightly before they can really pull at it because if he remembers their rough housing weeks ago, Harry accidentally moaned when Zayn did it.

All these thoughts and what's he's really surrounding himself by (Harry) is making him close now. He's pulling out while stroking his cock, "Want me to come in you or?" Harry turns around with his lips parted and hooded eyes. He only nods, slipping off Zayn's condom for him sloppily. Zayn gets him onto the floor and spreads his legs so that they're in the missionary position that Zayn's been aching for. He wants to see Harry come right in front of his eyes, make a mess of the two of them.

Zayn's never though Harry could be so flexible before, his legs are spread so wide that Zayn thinks Harry's thigh muscles are tingling. He pounds into Harry a few more times before grasping at Harry's nipples with both hands and feeling his come shoot into Harry's heat. Smoothening out his orgasm, he does shallow, languid thrusts while his fist plays the opposite role of pumping Harry fast and hard.

Once Zayn's softened inside Harry, he pulls out and gets a mouth around Harry's cock. He bobs his head around the whole length, hearing Harry's mewls above him aspire him to begin to deep throat Harry. Harry's up forward, scratching against Zayn's neck. He doesn't bother to shove Harry's touch away but chooses to pump him while sucking on his crown, which is what makes Harry come in an instant. He tastes it on his tongue, savoring every drop as he licks and sucks at any residue that lands elsewhere. What he can't stand is what Harry's panting the same time he's still coming hard, "Rodger!"

Zayn lousily uses Harry's shirt to wipe Harry's rim dripping in come and the trails of saliva on Harry's stomach. Harry's eyelashes flutter against his cheekbone, reaching for Zayn's jaw, "I love you so much, again, baby." Harry says when he's stretching on the cold surface is the dark wooden ground. He's curling up, reaching for the throw blanket, "Was the best we've ever done it."

Zayn is lost for words, leaving Harry alone in the room that's so full but feels everything like emptiness. He reaches for all his articles of clothing and makes it quick to dress up, grabs his car keys, a cupcake, and dashes off. He'll have the bruises of Harry skin etched in his memory but at least it's nowhere visible to remind him. But then again, he doesn't think he'll ever look at Harry again.

**Author's Note:**

> i think im writing more to this, let me know!


End file.
